Chapter 2981: Carnage in the Rainforest

  Why write about the Songhua River? It's because in China's history of resisting Japanese aggression, what happened in Northeast China was a special phenomenon. In China, the full-scale anti-Japanese war lasted for eight years, while in Northeast China, the Japanese invaders occupied it for 14 years. At that time, the military strength of the Northeast Army was second only to the Central Army among various warlords in the country, with a relatively complete industrial system and military-industrial enterprises. However, the first to lose territory was precisely the Northeast Army. On battlefields across the country, both the Nationalist and Communist parties fought bloody battles against the Japanese invaders, while in Northeast China, only the Anti-Japanese United Army resisted with weak forces, ultimately being forced to retreat abroad. The Songhua River is a transliteration of the Manchu language "Songari Ula", meaning "Heavenly River".

  The Songhua River is compared to the Milky Way falling from the sky, summarizing its vastness, richness and beauty. It has many beautiful legends and stories passed down through generations, especially in the area between the White Mountains and Black Waters. The Songhua River is the largest tributary of the Heilongjiang River, with a total length of 1,900 kilometers and a drainage area of 545,600 square kilometers, exceeding that of the Pearl River and accounting for 69.32% of the total area of the three provinces in Northeast China. The annual runoff is 75.9 billion cubic meters, surpassing that of the Yellow River. The Songhua River basin has overlapping mountains and forests, with a total of 10 billion cubic meters of timber stored in the Greater and Lesser Xing'an Mountains, Changbai Mountains and other mountain ranges, making it China's largest forest area.

  The mineral resources are extremely rich, with coal being the main one, and also gold, copper, iron, etc. The Fengman Hydroelectric Power Station is located on the Songhua River, and after the dam was built, it formed the Songhua Lake, which has a beautiful scenery, rare fog, and a spectacular view that is hard to find in the world. This book's first part tells the story of me being reborn and crossing over to this land. Chapter 1: The three-day and three-night snowstorm finally stopped at Tangjia Wopu, and the sky cleared up. This year's snow was bigger than previous years, covering the ancient land of Guandong with a thick layer of white snow. The snow on flat ground reached knee-deep, while in the windless gullies, it was deep enough to bury people. The sun came out, and the bright morning sunlight jumped above the horizon, shining on the sparkling white snow, making it dazzling to the eyes. The frozen Songhua River remained as silent as ever, revealing its ancient vastness, like an old man who had experienced many hardships and joys on this land, remembering the pain and happiness of this place. It was a rare good weather with no wind.

  Along the riverbank to the east, there are continuous mountains, and dense, lush pine forests that stretch as far as the eye can see. The dark green branches are covered with white snow, and occasionally, there are a few slender white birch trees standing quietly, lost in thought. If the pine trees are majestic young men, then the white birch trees are beautiful maidens, gentle and leaning against the pine trees. The white snow and green pines reflect each other under the icy blue sky, like a watercolor painting spread out on the land of Guandong, exuding a primitive and ancient beauty. The mountain road winds its way through, breathing in the crisp air, trudging through knee-deep snow, and from time to time, seeing frozen wild chickens and pheasants lying under the trees. After walking for over ten miles, a village appears before one's eyes, with a dirt road running through the middle of the village, and houses made of rammed earth, one after another, stretching far into the distance. The outer walls are stuck with corn stalks to prevent rain from washing away the walls and also to keep warm. Each household uses birch tree branches to hold up their eaves, and white snow covers the rooftops of every house. On top of the houses, golden yellow corn cobs hang from the eaves, and under the eaves, bright red chili peppers hang down, standing out especially against the white snow. Morning smoke rises faintly, like clouds or mist, enveloping the village in a haze.

  Standing on the mountain peak and looking down, the whole village is like a sleeping baby in a cradle, with an air of being at peace with the world. This was in the morning, when the people of Guandong, who were used to hibernating through winter, had not yet risen early. Except for the slowly rising cooking smoke, the entire village was quiet and still, under the gentle touch of the morning sun, exuding a sense of serenity, tranquility, simplicity, and primitiveness. This is Tangjiawopu, with over 100 households, considered to be one of the larger villages in the area of several dozen square miles. In Northeast China, the vast majority of villages are named after surnames. Many years ago, two brothers from Shandong Province came to this place, opened up wasteland for farming, caught fish and hunted in the mountains, dug up medicinal herbs and chopped firewood. The vast land of Guandong was sparsely populated, with fertile soil that flowed like oil, wild animals everywhere on the mountain, and forests full of game. The rivers were filled with delicious fresh fish, and as long as one was willing to work hard and endure hardships, they would not go hungry. The two brothers built a hut here, settled down, and put down roots, so it came to be called Tangjiawopu.

  Later, fellow villagers, relatives and friends came to rely on each other, and the number of people gradually increased. They opened up wasteland for farming, went hunting in the mountains, fished in the rivers, cut wood to build houses, got married and had children. After more than a hundred years of reproduction and growth, the present-day Dazhuangzi was formed. Therefore, most men in the village are good hunters and skilled at sailing boats. Of course, not all families living in the village have the surname Tang, but those with the surname Tang still make up the majority.

  This is the winter of 1932, more than a year has passed since the "9.18" Incident. The sound of cannons in Shenyang City has long been gone, and the former Marshal's Mansion has hung the flag of the sun, like a piece of dog skin plaster stuck on white paper, looking at it is not pleasant to the eye. It seems that this land has changed hands.

  The Jiangqiao Anti-War was fierce and intense, with the heroic Heilongjiang garrison troops led by General Ma Zanshan launching a counterattack against an enemy several times their own strength, killing or wounding over 6,000 Japanese puppet soldiers. This was the first major setback for the Japanese army since the "9·18" Incident, greatly damaging the morale of the invading forces and slowing down their advance. However, the National Government remained indifferent, refusing to send reinforcements, leaving General Ma Zanshan's troops to fight alone, unable to hold out against the enemy. The blood of the heroic soldiers stained the vast white snow and spilled onto the black earth. Despite this, the Japanese continued to send in reinforcements, throwing their main force divisions into battle. After resisting for many days, they were ultimately defeated due to being outnumbered.

  The heroic spirit of the martyrs has turned into a wisp of smoke, merging with the blue sky to guard this black land. The heroes have gone far away, but how many people can still remember their silhouettes and tragic stories? Zhang Shao's tens of millions of Northeastern Army, holding guns in their hands like firewood, tens of thousands of people, not a single fart was let out, were chased by the little devils' more than 20,000 people, like chasing rabbits, running wildly, rushing into the pass. The soldiers ran away, leaving behind the ordinary civilians, who would suffer the consequences. This beautiful and fertile great land, the White Mountains and Black Waters, the vast expanse of the Guandong region, hundreds of millions of people, with their ancestral industries, were lost just like that. The iron hooves of the Japanese invaders occupied this land, occupying the three eastern provinces.

  The country is broken, the mountains and rivers remain. Since ancient times, people who have ventured to the northeast have had a quality of not being willing to be controlled by fate in their bones. People living on the black soil of Northeast China are not lacking in bravery and bloodiness. The loss of territory, foreign invasion, in the years of great suffering of the Chinese nation, heroes were destined to emerge, leading the brave sons and daughters who refused to be oppressed and enslaved by foreign tribes, writing a chapter of resistance history. This is the era when heroes emerged! I was reborn into this world more than a year ago. The memories of my past life have not been forgotten at all, every detail is still vivid in my mind. My name is Tang Qiuli, in my previous life, I was a commander of the "Wolf Tooth" special forces of the Liberation Army, with the rank of colonel, before the age of thirty, I was already a regimental commander, which is not common in the military, it requires real ability. I led my team to participate in many special combat missions, experienced many dangers, and still have several scars on my body now, fortunately, none are on my face. It's said that men's scars are their medals, of course, this doesn't include those of loafers, gangsters, or underworld figures. In short, I am a seasoned iron-blooded soldier who has been through trials by fire and blood.

  I am the only child in my family, my father is a general, strict and severe, with another kind of love accompanying my growth. From the time I was aware, my father required me to meet the standards of a soldier, walking with chest out and head held high, looking straight ahead, speaking concisely and clearly, standing up straight, sitting properly, not talking during meals, etc. It seems that my father treated me as one of his soldiers. From the age of ten, every morning's five-kilometer cross-country run was a required course for me; I was only ten years old at the time! My mother is a university professor, and from her, I experienced true maternal love. I inherited all of my mother's good qualities: kindness, tolerance, understanding, and erudition.

  In the year I graduated from university, with infinite longing for a military career, I entered the army. Perhaps it was my father's words that had a profound impact on me: "A man, if he doesn't have military experience, will lack the calcium he needs in his bones." This made me crazy about the military and soldiers. I am proficient in martial arts, and as a child, I studied under a master of natural gate, practicing internal strength and deepening my skills. After several years in the army, I was accepted into the National Defense University's master's program, majoring in campaign command and special operations theory. I have a good language talent, fluent in Japanese and English. To be honest, learning Japanese wasn't out of interest, but to understand the crazy people on that island, aside from AV, actresses, and harakiri, what other strange thoughts do they have deep down? In my free time, I enjoy studying war history, especially the history of the War of Resistance Against Japan. I often fantasize about how I would be if I were born in that era. With good education and family environment, I have a unique charm that combines the elegance of books with the iron-blooded quality of a soldier. It's hard not to attract attention, and when walking on the street, my gaze rate is quite high. I once had a face, and an advertising company asked me to endorse a male health product, with very tempting conditions, but I refused, still fearing my dad's wrath. If I accepted and he found out, I would probably die miserably. Besides, it didn't suit my identity as a soldier. I am a person with strong discipline, but deep down, I feel a little regret - that was a lot of money! My future is bright, life is wonderful, recently, Aunt Wang from my mom's unit introduced me to a girl, and after meeting twice, the impression wasn't bad. Now, I'm on my way to meet her again, but then this happened, and I crossed over into 1932 in a village by the Songhua River in Northeast China. My future, my girl, I cry, damn it, heaven, did I have a feud with you in my past life? You're screwing me like this! I despise you!!!